


this and that of you

by schweet_heart



Series: Star Trek Fic [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 5 Times, Confusion, First Kiss, First Time, Five Year Mission, Fluff, Lost in Translation, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: In which Captain Kirk attempts to seduce a Vulcan, and Spock is confused.Or: five times Kirk kissed Spock and one time Spock reciprocated in kind.





	this and that of you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Michaelssw0rd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Five and One: I Wanna Hold Your Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/297162) by Penbrydd. 



> I found this in my drafts folder from eons ago, so I figured I should post it. 
> 
> Title from [e. e. cummings](https://www.sccs.swarthmore.edu/users/01/jillyb/i_like_my_body.htm).

 

The first time, he decided that it had to have been an accident. Of course it was an accident. Humans touched one another all the time, and Kirk was not to know that that particular type of hand-to-hand contact meant an entirely different thing on Vulcan. He would simply have to explain – only here Spock's train of thought ended abruptly, because how could he explain? It had been bad enough having to reveal to Jim the secrets of the Pon Farr. To enter into a discussion of Vulcan courtship rituals would be too much to endure.

 

And so Spock held his tongue. It had only been a small thing, after all – the brush of the Captain's fingers against certain meld points on his palm while the human had been handing him a necessary PADD – though the reaction it had engendered had troubled him not a little. He forced himself to meditate for an additional hour that evening to compensate for the lapse, and the incident was much on his mind for several days afterwards.

 

 _Illogical_ , he thought. _It was an accident, nothing more_.

 

*

 

The second time it definitely wasn't Kirk's fault either, whatever Spock's hopes to the contrary. The Vulcan had been monitoring a severe ion storm, with captain leaning past him in an attempt to gain a better view of the science display. Neither had been prepared when the bridge dropped beneath them, tumbling them back across the deck, and moments later their hands collided in a manner that was considered exceedingly intimate on his home planet. Kirk's thumb slid down his wrist, leaving warm trails of tingling flesh and ending at the tip of his own fingers, then moved on to the railing he had been reaching for as if nothing had happened.

 

Spock drew back at once, clamping down on a surge of – what? Some kind of emotion. _Irrelevant_. The captain did not appear to notice, and the Vulcan was careful to keep an appropriate distance between them for the rest of the shift.

 

*

 

The third time it was incidental. Kirk, Spock and a small landing party were to beam down to a planet whose civilization was currently experiencing what on Earth would have been called a Civil War. An unfortunate nomenclature, in Spock's opinion – no war could have been less civil than the one that was waging on _Vetinari XV_. In order to blend in with the natives, it was necessary that Spock cover his ears, for which reason both he and Kirk were to be found in the empty transporter room some time before they were due to depart, trying different forms of native headgear to see which would be the least conspicuous.

 

“I don't think that one quite suits you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk observed, reaching up to remove the latest reject for the pile. As he did so, he brushed the tips of Spock's ears with his fingers, very slowly, and Spock experienced a frisson of arousal that nearly caused him to shudder. His eyes darted to the captain's face, but Kirk was merely regarding the Vulcan's elegant ears with conspicuous innocence.

 

“Shame to cover them up, really,” he mused. “They're one of your best features.”

 

Spock had no idea what to say to that, so he let it pass without a word.

 

*

 

The Vetinari didn't care for Spock's fashion choices – nor, in fact, did they appear to care for Spock. No sooner had they beamed down to the planet than the landing party found themselves under heavy fire from both sides, each determined to kill _someone_ and apparently not that particular as to whom. The five of them dove for cover, but they were not fast enough. Spock didn't even see the bullet coming before he was flat on his back, feeling as though a lematya had torn a hole in his chest and taken his breath with it.

 

“Spock!” Jim was at his side in an instant, hands grasping his shoulders, fear in every line of his body. “Spock, are you all right?”

 

Which was absurd, because of course he was not all right. Had he been human, Spock would probably have been dead – as he found out later, the bullet had hit near the centre of his chest and would surely have struck his heart, had his internal organs been arranged in a typical _homo sapiens_ configuration. Being Vulcan, the worst he suffered was a collapsed lung. Which explained why he found himself unable to answer Kirk's frantic inquiries as to his welfare, why there were copious amounts of green blood soaking through his shirt, and why the last thing he felt was the captain's hand touching the meld points on his face, the bright swirl of his emotions following the Vulcan into unconsciousness like the tail of a comet plunging into deep space.

 

It did not occur to him at the time that this was anything more than an attempt to ascertain whether he was still alive.

 

*

 

It was Dr. McCoy who set him straight, albeit unintentionally. Spock had woken in sickbay to find his commanding officer and best friend snoring in a chair beside his biobed, one hand firmly entwined with his own. A low, psychic hum of contentment was evident through the link formed by the touch. Surprised, yet oddly comforted by the sensation, Spock almost didn't notice the doctor quietly taking his readings until the human asked him how he was feeling.

 

“Doctor, you of all people ought to know that such a question is entirely irrelevant where Vulcans are concerned.”

 

“Well, if you can make your usual snide remarks like that, I'll take it you're feeling better,” McCoy retorted acerbically. He nodded at the captain's prone form. “Only keep your voice down. I don't want you to wake him.”

 

Spock lifted one eyebrow.

 

“Surely it would be more beneficial for the captain if he were to sleep in his own bed.”

 

“I tried to move him, but he wouldn't let go.” The doctor shrugged. “He's been worried sick about you, and he needs his rest, so I left him there.”

 

“I am no longer in any danger,” Spock pointed out. “For the captain of a starship to abandon his duties in such a fashion is illogical.”

 

McCoy shrugged again, and bobbed on his heels in a manner Spock considered far too self-satisfied for his own good.

 

“He cares about you, Spock,” he said, as if it were the obvious answer. Perhaps, to a human, it was. “And God knows, love is seldom logical.”

 

*

 

The day after he was released from sickbay, Spock waited until the late shift was over before turning up at the captain's door.

 

“Spock,” Kirk said with surprise. He was still fully dressed, and had obviously been wide awake. Something in his guarded expression told Spock the reason for his lack of slumber was not an entirely happy one. “Shouldn't you be resting?”

 

“I am perfectly recovered, Captain.”

 

“Oh. Well. Good. Come on in.”

 

Spock did as he was told, then paused as the door slid shut behind him, saying gravely: “I apologize for disturbing you at this late hour. However, I wish to speak with you about something which has recently come to my attention.”

 

Kirk's shoulders stiffened, and his head came up.

 

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I see.”

 

Until that moment, Spock had not been certain his assessment of the situation was accurate. It was so easy to misinterpret human emotions, after all. But the captain was acting decidedly nervous, something for which he could see no good reason unless –

 

“Spock...” Kirk began. It was the first, and possibly the only time that Spock could recall having seen him at a loss for words. “Listen, Spock, I – ”

 

“Captain.” The Vulcan was standing in front of him now, his face expressionless, his voice carefully stripped of inflection. “I would like to make a suggestion.”

 

Startled, Kirk met his gaze.

 

“A – suggestion?”

 

“Yes.”

 

There were inches between them. Slowly, Spock closed the distance, until he could feel Kirk's quickened breath on his neck, the brush of auburn hair against the curve of his cheekbone. The captain's entire body was tense, but he didn't move away. “If you wish to flirt with me,” Spock murmured. “I suggest you stick to the method with which you are most familiar. Your attempt to employ Vulcan courtship techniques was most...inefficient.”

 

He heard Kirk's shocked intake of breath, and thought for an instant that he had overstepped, that the logic of the situation had misled him. Instead, however, Kirk laughed. “I don't know, Spock,” he said, his voice affectionate and intimately familiar. “We're here, aren't we?”

 

“Indeed,” Spock said, acknowledging the point. Perhaps there was something to be said for the captain's methodology after all. "In which case, I wish to make another suggestion."

 

"Way ahead of you, Mister Spock," Kirk said, leaning in. Spock turned to meet him, sealing their lips together in a kiss that was, for once, entirely human.

 

It was more than satisfactory.

 


End file.
